Volume 5: Harry Potter & The Summer of FOMO

“Jamie Burke, of Port Moody, was proud to say that she was perfectly normal, thank you very much. She was the last person you’d expect to be involved in anything (fun) or (adventurous) this summer, because she just didn’t (have time) for such nonsense.”

For those non-Potterheads out there, let me explain. Every Harry Potter book begins at a specific point in time: the summer before Harry heads off to Hogwarts for another year of Potions, Transfiguration and attempted murder at the hands of Lord Voldemort.?

Every summer Harry longs for summer to be over so he can return to the Wizarding World, his one true home.?

I’ve always felt an affinity towards Harry. Odd. Glasses. And above all, a deep desire for summer to be over.

Don’t get me wrong. I love summer. Eddie and I enjoy sunny afternoons with a pint along Brewers Row (go try the Rainbow Road Passionfruit Guava Pomegranate at Rewind Beer, you can thank me later), swimming in the pool, making pineapple burgers (DM me for BBQ recipes!) and the general gallivanting, frolicking, carefree nature of July and August.?

But… It's exhausting.?

The problem is, I’ve never been carefree. As someone with anxiety, worrying is my M.O. I’m never not carefree. I am packed to the brim with care.?

I care about everything: our mortgage, my general health, my nieces and nephews, my marriage, whether or not Jason or Kaitlyn from Bachelor Nation actually broke up, if my next article submission will be accepted, my skin care routine and climate change.

My mind, unfortunately, isn’t capable of taking a summer holiday.?

Often, Eddie will look over me as I’m hunched over my laptop at 9pm, asking when I’ll be done for the day. I respond with, “I’m never done for the day.”?

Later, I will lie in bed, look over at him and ask, “Did I do enough today?”?

“Good night, sweetie”, he’ll gently say, as he gives me a kiss and we both nod off to sleep. He’s heard this all before. Because I ask the same question every night. And he knows it’s sometimes best to not let the demon of anxiety overtake the comfort of our evening together.

Meanwhile, it feels like everyone else around me is off on summer vacation. Trips to France. Road trips with their dogs. Weddings and beaches and wine and a general sense of unmedicated joy.?

People take 3x longer to respond to work emails than normal. Which is absolutely fair. People can and should go on summer vacation. Yet the FOMO has never hit so acutely as it has in the summer of 2023.?

I do get the sense that I’m not being fair. Plenty of people are enjoying their summer while on antidepressants. Plenty of people are also working long hours. But that’s the thing with FOMO: it makes you feel like you’re the only one inflicted by its dreaded curse, running images of your mind of other people living better lives than you, other people happier than you, other people who are not missing out while you most definitely are.?

The truth is, I’ve increased the dosage of Citalopram recently. And while it’s helped a lot, it’s had its downsides. My body is still adjusting to the changes. I've been more sensitive to heat than ever. After more than an hour or two in the sun, I would get lightheaded, need copious amounts of H2O, and we’d eventually head home a little earlier than we might have in my pre-diagnosis days.?

Perhaps the real FOMO is my fear of missing out on who I used to be before my anxiety disorder. My mind was a labyrinth, with the walls constantly moving and a heavy fog closing in on me at all times. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I just described the maze during the Third Task of The Triwizard Tournament in Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. But I don’t want that anymore. My mind now is still a windy, complex path. But it’s my path and no one else’s.

I think we all get FOMO, in some sense or the other. But I’m trying. We all are. I’m just waiting for my Hogwarts acceptance letter to finally come in.